The Tarnished Mirror
by Kuroshiro
Summary: Oh, please do not click on this link. Only woe awaits you, in the form of a fanfiction!
1. Prologue

_First attempt at fan fiction for a book. Chapters may be coming out slowly, but feedback is always appreciated! _

If you have chosen to read this fan-fiction as an enjoyable way to pass your time, I advise you to turn off your browser right now, shut down your computer, and think about the horrible mistake you have made. This story may be one of the most awful the Baudelaire Orphans have faced. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire are sent off to Latinimus to live with an eccentric relative, and bad times are behind every Corinthian column.

This very tale contains such awful things such as wax fruits, a pink-striped shirt, a comb-over, a large cobweb, and an acacia tree.

I have vowed to put to word all of the events of these ill-fortuned youths— but there is no reason for you to read them. 


	2. Chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night.

This is an awful, awful opening to many horror novels that I'm sure we all have heard, and is a large cliché, a word which here means "phrase that I don't like and must be excused for using." One problem with this phrase is that most nights are dark, and the fact that it is does not to be stated. Most of the time, the story that follows is so ruined that it is not even especially horrific; but I assure you, the following account of the lives of the Baudelaire Orphans is so full of woe, misery, and despair that it is quite appropriate. It is also appropriate as it, in fact, WAS a dark and stormy night, and I have vowed to be as accurate as possible in chronicling the lives of these poor youths, so I must be excused. 

It was a dark and stormy night. The Baudelaire children were sitting in the cramped space of Mr. Poe's car, driving to an unknown place to go live with an unknown relative. 

Violet, the eldest of the Baudelaires, was sitting in the front. She loved inventing things, it was her hobby and skill. A telltale sign to show that she was thinking of an invention was when she pulled up her hair in a ribbon to keep it out of her eyes; whenever she did that, the gears in her head were whirring at top speed. Now, however, she was too depressed to try to invent something. As what one often does when one is in a car, looking at the rain, one thinks of the past; and in Violet's case, the past was nothing but bad things. The Baudelaire parents had perished in a fire that burned down the Baudelaire house; and now a certain Count Olaf would do absolutely anything to get his gnarled hands on the Baudelaire fortune. Violet was thinking of the happy times she experienced with her parents, the way things were before. Yet when you think of happy times and you know those times will never happen again, those thoughts are quite sad. 

Klaus, the middle Baudelaire, was sitting in the back seat. His passion was reading; in the late Baudelaire household he devoured every book, and his ability to recall inummerable facts was always useful. Right now, he was asking himself questions about the future. Would his new caregiver be kind and generous? Yet even as these thoughts rang through his mind, he knew the chance of that was quite slim, a word which here does not mean "skinny" but "next to none."

Sunny, the youngest Baudelaire, was sitting on Klaus's lap. Sunny was but an infant, with a tendency to bite things with her four sharp teeth, and had seen more misfortune in her short life than most other people do in their lifetime.

"Mr. Poe, what do you know about our new guardian?" 

Mr. Poe worked at Mulctuary Money Management, as was also, unfortunately, was in charge of the Baudelaire Orphan's affairs— needless to say, he had good intentions, but was not doing a very good job.

"Her named is Mrs. Murus, and I'm not sure what her full name is, but she will tell you if you are allowed to call her by that name. I think she's your mother's mother's cousin's sister's niece."

"Birga!" Sunny murmured. Sunny, as most infants, spoke in intelligible words, but this time everyone knew she meant "I hope Mrs. Murus will be nice and I hope that this ride will end quite soon!" 

"I agree," muttered Klaus.

Soon enough, the car past an archway, and a flash of lightning was enough for the Baudelaire orphans to see it read "Welcome ad oppidum Latinimus!" 

"What does that mean?" asked Violet.

"I'm not sure, but I think this place is called Latinimus. Well, let's see how this will go," said Klaus. 


	3. Chapter 2

If someone continually lives in their memories or tries to make everything the way they were, they are living in the past. I once loved a woman who is no longer on this world, and I would do anything to be back with her. My friends all tell me that I'm living in the past, and that's where I want to be. 

Yet as the orphans drove through Latinimus, and caught glimpses of the town illuminated by brief flashes of lightning, they realized that the phrase "living in the past" could just as easily be applied to anyone living in this town. It seemed straight out of ancient times; the buildings were made out of marble and limestone, with columns supporting them, and many engravings, a word which here means "words carved into rock when they might as well have been carved in paper."

Mr. Poe coughed a few times into his handkerchief, and then started speaking. Mr. Poe was never without a cold and a cough. 

"Your new caregiver will meet you outside of her house. Remember to be polite, and not to cause any trouble."

"Yes, Mr. Poe," Klaus sighed, deciding not to point out that all of the trouble was not their fault but the fault of Count Olaf and his hideous theater troupe. 

The car managed to stay on the road despite the darkness and storminess of the night, and pulled in front of a house that reminded Klaus of an Ancient Roman temple. Standing at the door, which was actually an archway, was an elderly woman with white hair down to her shoulders, thick glasses, and a particularly garish pink striped shirt, which seemed to glow in the dark night.

"Salvete, omnes!" said Mrs. Murus cheerily in a nasal voice, twisting her mouth into a smile.

"Uh… bonjour?" said Violet politely. 

"No, that's French! I'm speaking Latin! Latin is just corrupted French! You should reply with 'Salve, Mater.' That's a good dear."

"Salve, Mater" said Klaus, politely averting his eyes from the pink striped shirt. 

"Vale, Mr. Poe. That's a word which means goodbye, Mr. Poe. Goodbye, Mr. Poe." Mr. Poe waved and drove off.

"Well, you're soaked, dry up in my house and I'll get you some soup and panis. That means bread."

The Baudelaire orphans looked at each other questioningly. Mrs. Murus seemed nice, but what she completely sane? I am sad to tell you: no, she was not. Not in the least.


	4. Chapter 3

The Baudelaires dried themselves off, and then was the time for the tour of the house. Normally, when you have a house, the inside reflects the outside. This is not always true; I remember finding a photon torpedo in a Nuba hut while escaping from some head hunters, which was useful, yet in this case it was. As Mrs. Murus so aptly put it, a word which here means "said it exactly the way I would have but with more Latin," said:

"This house is Latin. Everything's Latin. Do you know Latin? You should know Latin. I'll teach you Latin. From now on, call me Granny Murus." 

Which is what I would have said, excluding the "call me Granny Murus."

The Baudelaire orphans looked at everything the way they would look at a museum; interesting, but not a place they would like to live in. Violet found no interesting technology past the renaissance; Sunny found nothing she could bite on but stone which would break even her powerful teeth, and Klaus hadn't found any books yet. Yet. 

"And now on to the library, which is a word that comes from the Latin word libri, meaning 'books.'"

Klaus was about to sigh, but it was stopped short when she opened the doors, revealing shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls, and tablets, in a large circle shape around a very large marble pillar in the center of the room. Light shone through the windows, hitting the pillar, which reflected more light and everything gleamed.

"All these books are about Roman history, Latin, or they are _in _Latin. We will meet here an hour a day at 3 to learn Latin, but you could come whenever you like." 

"Thank you, Mrs. Murus. It is very kind of you," said Klaus sincerely, a word which here means "with much sincerity."

"Well, here is your room. There are two beds, a cradle, and a box. You can unpack and I'll bring out dinner. Valete!"

The orphans looked at their room, covered in murals of Roman Gods.

"Does this seem odd to you?" Klaus whispered.

"Nurk!" said sunny, which meant something like "Yes, Mrs. Murus seems a bit strange, though she is providing care to us, and it's a bit fun living somewhere so different."

"I agree," Violet said. "We have no real reason to complain."

"At least, I hope not," Klaus sighed as he began to unpack.


	5. Chapter 4

Dinner was satisfying enough, though a little strange. Mrs. Murus prepared a soup with beans, which tasted different, which Mrs. Murus said was due to the "garum." Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were too polite to ask "what the heck is garum?" Yet they didn't know, they didn't need to know, I hope you don't know, because I know that that knowledge is not something you or they would like to know. 

"I know," said Mrs. Murus "You would like some dessert. Well, I'll be right back, liberi! That means children! In Latin!"

A fleeting smile passed across the orphan's faces as they remembered the first day they met their late Uncle Monty, who was so excited to see them he called them "bambini," which meant children in Italian. However, Uncle Monty sadly crossed paths with Count Olaf, and the "late" was soon after added to the beginning of his name. You can now understand why when Mrs. Murus came back with desert, why their faces were so very hopeless, gloomy, and distraught.

"Oh, why the hopeless, gloomy and distraught faces? Oh, of course, you've been through a lot. But turn that frown upside down!" Mrs. Murus said when she came back, twisting her almost perpetual frown into a smile. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny forced smiles. Now, it is normally not a very nice thing to trick someone, but the three Baudelaires are exceptions to many things. Good times, for example. 

Well, Violet thought, perhaps those pink stripes can be cheerful, if seen in the right light.

Well, Klaus thought, perhaps this place is a bit weird, but it wasn't with Count Olaf.

Well, Sunny thought, Gack!

But one thing was wrong, they all thought. But they couldn't quite put their finger on it.

They reached for dessert, which consisted of some big orange things on a platter. Sunny bit it with glee, and a loud "CRACK!" was heard. The orange thing split apart, and it looked as if it was just ice frozen solid.

"I hope you like ice cream!"

Perhaps one thing was wrong; Mrs. Murus was a tad eccentric. 

From the latin ex-center, meaning out of the center.

Mrs. Murus wasn't very normal, whatever language you put it in. 


End file.
